


Bring the Moon

by hit_the_books



Series: Solstice [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Bottom Sam, Fae & Fairies, First Time Bottoming, John Winchester Being an Asshole, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Original Character(s), Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Pre-Stanford, Prompt Fic, Smut, Summer Solstice, fandomnatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 15:40:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4185420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hit_the_books/pseuds/hit_the_books
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <a href="http://www.reddit.com/r/fandomnatural/comments/38eon7/fandomnatural_june_2015_prompt/">Written for the June 2015 /r/fandomnatural prompt.</a>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>It's the summer solstice,<br/>Anger burns in Sam's heart.</p><p>Will he make it through the longest day of the year?<br/>Or will he fall apart?</p><p>Listen for the laughter,<br/>Look for the Moon.</p><p>Will he walk through the trees?<br/>Or will he ignore his boon?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bring the Moon

Up the airy mountain,  
  Down the rushy glen,  
We daren’t go a-hunting  
  For fear of little men;  
Wee folk, good folk,  
  Trooping all together;  
Green jacket, red cap,  
  And white owl’s feather!

Excerpt [The Fairies by William Allingham](http://www.scottishpoetrylibrary.org.uk/poetry/poems/fairies)

The air was chill that time of night, but Sam was warm enough in his usual jeans, plaid, t-shirt and jacket. Under the light of the stars and his flashlight, Sam stomped into the undergrowth as he tried to ignore the words of his father that still stung his ears. He could feel the lushness of the life that surrounded him, feel the press of the insect chorus; the flashlight occasionally picking up the vivid greens of pines and bushes that grew either side of the path he trooped along. There was no moon to guide him.

The longest day of the year, maybe the longest day of his life, stretched behind Sam. The day was almost at an end, but he couldn’t stand the thought of calling it quits and heading to bed. Sam couldn’t stand the notion of being near John Winchester after his harsh words had cruelly slapped him in the face.

Maybe it had been the whiskey his father had found solace in after the previous day’s hunt, tracking and killing a young werewolf. But the words spoken that evening, through that liquor soaked haze, had been cruel and biting.

“College? Who would have you? How would you pay for it? Because I sure as hell don’t have the cash to waste on you chasing some stupid fucking pipe dream!” Over and over again, Sam could hear his father and it wouldn’t stop. He’d been too scared to tell his father of the places he’d already been offered.

“You don’t have to worry about paying for it,” was Sam’s own refrain, chasing his father’s words inside his head. But those words had done nothing at the time and had instead caused a low chuckle and a snort from John. It cut Sam deeply that his father was so obsessed with fighting his way through the darkness in their world that he was too blind to see what light there was in it.

John had been so blind, for so long, that he didn’t know what kind of man Sam was becoming, had hardly known the boy he’d been. Perhaps Dean saw it a little, but Sam knew his brother would never speak out of turn for him. And Sam saw the way that his brother was trailing after their father into this life, no questions asked. But Sam knew he was capable of being so much more, felt it as keenly as the beating of his own heart.

Was it really too much to hope for a life where Sam wouldn't die young and in the jaws of some monster? Drying tears stung Sam’s cheeks and he wished he was anywhere else but there, in that corner of Massachusetts.

It being a new moon that night meant it was easy to see the peppering of stars shining above. Sam noted the sound of a brook bubbling to his left and kept checking the ground with his flashlight to make sure he was still on the path. He wasn’t so distraught that he couldn’t think about his own safety. Taking a big gulp of air to stifle a sob, Sam revelled in the night’s scents, allowing the life around him to calm his furious heart.

Reaching a footbridge across the brook that was now a small river, Sam shone his flashlight ahead as he clambered across the treated pine slats, sure enough of his balance to ignore the handrail. In the light of the flashlight, at the other side of the small bridge, movement caught Sam’s eyes. Something had darted across the path ahead of him, into the pines, but he heard no footsteps.

The laughter of young boys floated towards Sam, bouncing between the tree trunks, as he reached the other side of the river. An unearthly quality resonated within the sound. Sam shifted his flashlight to his left hand, then bent down and pulled a hunting knife from a holder strapped to his right leg. Sam held the knife expertly balanced in his right hand, the hilt a reassuring presence. Shining the flashlight around him, looking into the underbrush, Sam could see nothing out of place.

Then the sound of youthful laughter found its way to Sam again. This time appearing to come from Sam’s left, downstream of the river. No one had screamed yet, but Sam’s hunter instincts for the weird and unnatural drove him towards the source of the laughter and without a further thought he left the trail and headed into the trees beside the river.

Laughter sounded again, this time further from the water’s edge and Sam carefully paced through the underbrush, squeezing past the trees, his knife raised ahead defensively. Suddenly, he broke the tree line and found himself standing in a meadow. The flashlight shone over wild flowers and tall grasses, but there was no more laughter. Sam took small steps into the clearing, the flashlight scanning his surroundings, little heed given to where he was stepping.

Silence. The absence of the night’s natural inhabitants was keenly felt by Sam as he realised that the insect chorus had stopped. That the gentle river no longer sung behind him. His breath caught in his chest and it was then that he thought to point his flashlight downwards and at first he noted the smooth evenly cut grass, clear of its untended cousins. And then, as Sam slowly turned on the spot, the flashlight illuminated the white-gray forms of the mushrooms that he was encircled by.

A corner of Sam’s brain, that collected all sorts of odd facts and nuggets of knowledge, triumphantly declared the name of those mushrooms as marasmius oreades.

“Fairy ring mushrooms,” Sam whispered to himself and the silence.

Nuggets of folklore screamed for Sam’s attention, as his brain went into overdrive, but instead his senses were stunned by the night’s sky lightening a shade above him. And then the sudden shifting veridian masses that coalesced on the ground, the trees and undergrowth audibly growing and shifting, snapping into positions that they had not been just moments before.

The circle of marasmius oreades remained. Sam held his knife, but turned the flashlight off, its light no longer needed in the comfortably warm twilight. Above him, the moon claimed the sky, full, round and perfect. The constellations that had shone before were now just background chatter, the Big Dipper hardly visible at all. It was meant to be a new moon that night. Sam pinched himself and it hurt.

“Young sir,” a man’s voice, old and refined, sounded from Sam’s immediate right. Sam spun and kept his knife in front of him, his stance defensive and ready. “Please, there is no need for weapons here.”

Sam stared at the figure before him. Sam had thought man, but looking at the being, with its finely chiselled - yet delicate - face and the ears pointing through its hair, and half a foot shorter than him... Sam’s heart sped up as every bit of fairy and elf law, from Grimm to Tolkien and the academics in between, collided in his head and he realised that before him stood a fairy. A fae. The fairy’s darkly coloured and simple tunic, short trousers and leggings, and his address, indicated butler.

“Sir?” Asked the fairy, though he held out no hand to take the knife.

More calmly than he felt, Sam bent down and re-sheathed his knife and pocketed his flashlight. Standing up once more, the fairy bowed to Sam before straightening up. Sam considered his situation: clearly, nothing could be gained from fighting his way out of whatever predicament he was in and he could easily guess that getting home would involve a lot more than just standing in the ring of mushrooms he was in. Sam wished that he knew a bit more about fairies than what he’d experienced in the odd tale or in film.

“This way, please,” said the fae as he began to walk away from the fairy circle. Cautiously, Sam stepped outside of the mushrooms and followed, wondering what the solstice had in store for him.

The vivid forest that surrounded them, no longer just pine, was all shades of green, with unknown blossoms peeking here and there. Ahead was a vast arbor of trees that had been coaxed into a continuous tunnel; it was through this that the fairy led Sam. It seemed to stretch on and on ahead of them, but with just a few steps they broke through to the other side, as if squeezed through space.

An air was sounding from a harp, as a set of pipes were blown in tune with it. Fae couples, their attire exquisitely archaic, gently danced around a central, towering, fountain, with clusters of satyrs and nymphs (who wore no clothes at all). The smell of roasting meat and sweet buns sunk into Sam and made his mouth water, replacing the heavy scent of greenery that had clogged his nostrils. The edge of the surrounding forest Sam had come through was an indistinct circle of green that encircled everything, its horizon unknowable.

“Come, this way,” said the fairy, holding a hand towards a throne that dominated one side of the seemingly endless space. Sam followed the fairy as he was led over to the towering structure, made of pure white marble, its immense steps littered with feasting folk, jugglers, curious wolves and merry fools.

And above it all, overseeing the festivities - festivities the likes of which Sam had never seen in all his short life - was a fairy, who looked not much older than Sam. This fairy was resplendent in the most elegant of attire of all there, his tunic, leggings, cloak, trousers and shoes all detailed with fine silver thread, the surrounding velvet and silk in varying shades of red and green. A silver coronet, with rubies set into it, crowned the fairy’s head.

“May I introduce to you, Prince Corbus, one Samuel Winchester,” declared the butler loudly. All revelry suddenly halted and Sam could feel a thousand pairs of eyes upon him.

But none he felt more keenly than Prince Corbus’s. The fairy prince’s eyes were a deep violet and nestled in a lightly tanned face. Sam bowed to the prince - of his own accord or through enchantment he did now know - with his own eyes trained on Corbus, as he took in the majesty of the fae prince’s features. Sam couldn’t help noticing the deep blackness of Corbus’s long, braided hair, nor the pinkness of his lips, the peaks of his ears and his confident, but friendly smile.

“Greetings, Samuel Winchester,” said Corbus as he climbed to his feet. His voice was sweet and deep, and Sam felt himself wondering about things he had only seriously considered a few times before. The prince climbed down to the step just above Sam, making them of equal height and putting only a few feet between them.

“So,” said Corbus, slapping his left hand down on Sam’s right shoulder, a degree of familiarity that caused Sam to tense, “why such sorrow on this most prodigious of nights, Sam?”

Sam didn’t know what to say, his body tensing further at the touch, unsure whether he should lean in or back away. No clue as to whether he would live if he refused everything that surrounded him. This being knowing his name was, as far as Sam could tell, the least of his problems.

A pipe sounded and a harp was struck. Behind Sam, the festivities picked up once and the two of them were suddenly alone in a sea of bodies. Sam allowed his shoulders to relax, and he licked his lips, before simply replying, “My father, he doesn’t want me to go to college.”

Airing the truth of his pain pulled Sam further out of himself and allowed him to glance around what he had become embroiled in. His natural curiosity began to prickle at him, as he realised that he had a million questions, but far fewer fears. There was a warmth to Corbus that Sam couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen in anyone in his life and he didn’t want to flee if there was a choice.

“Oh, how I know about fathers and their wants,” chuckled Corbus who stepped down beside Sam, on his left, turning the two of them to look at the masses below. Sam couldn’t be sure, as he looked down at the feasting and dancing creatures, but he thought he saw a satyr and nymph fucking on a side of the huge fountain.

Sam took in a deep breath and decided to voice one of his more pressing fears. “Prince Corbus-”

“Sam, Sam: Corbus is just fine. You are my guest this night.”

“Okay, Corbus, will I be allowed to leave this place alive and return to where I came from?”

Corbus’s cool left hand snaked around Sam’s right cheek and another on his left, and the prince gently turned Sam to face him, their noses almost touching as Corbus spoke. “Of course, Sam, should you so desire once the night is at its end. I only brought you here, because your own pain and sorrow seemed far greater than my own and I thought that I might help you… through it. I hoped that allowing you to keep your blade would show you that my courtiers and I mean you no harm.”

Sam swallowed. “Oh,” he said, pathetically, staring down into Corbus’s violet eyes.

Just as suddenly as they had appeared, Corbus’s hands were gone and the prince turned back to the party. “Are you hungry, Sam?”

On cue, Sam’s stomach growled and he looked at Corbus. “I suppose I am, but,” a snippet of fairy lore dragged itself out, “by eating or drinking here I won’t be… placed under… obligation to you or anyone else here, will I?”

Corbus faced him once more and a mirthful grin spread on the prince’s face. “Myself and all here will place no obligations on you should you drink and dine here this night.”

Relieved, Sam nodded. “Then yes, Corbus, I would like something to eat.”

“Excellent! Follow me!”

Corbus began striding down the throne’s marble steps, surprisingly fast for his height, and Sam followed close behind, though felt somewhat ungainly in light of Corbus’s unnatural nimbleness.

The moment Sam thought he was going to be lost among the partying crowds at the feet of the enormous throne, he found his right hand inside Corbus’s, their fingers threaded, as the prince led him through the throng. Sam said nothing to this, but he felt goosebumps gathering on his skin.

Eventually, the two of them reached a long table in front of a roasting pit. The table was covered in wooden trays piled high with roasted meats of varying shades, all manner of fruit, breads, sweet cakes and more. Corbus left go of Sam’s hand and motioned for Sam to pick up a large, empty wooden tray, which Corbus swiftly began to pile high with a mixture of food, taking care that grease and gravy from the meat was buffered by hunks of bread. Once satisfied that they had enough, Corbus picked up a wooden flagon, two wooden goblets and plates.

“This way!” Corbus shouted and Sam did his best to stay close as he followed the prince ever further away from the arbor and the throne. Slowly, but surely, they reached the outer rings of the party and the forest that surrounded its edge. Corbus held back a curtain of moss that clung to the trees there and waved Sam through before following after him, the noise of the party suddenly gone and an earthen path ahead of them.

“Follow the path,” Corbus said quietly and so Sam did as nightingale song threaded its way through the densely packed trees that closed in either side of them. Sam’s mouth was salivating from the food he held in front of them, but he picked at none as they walked.

Sam could hear a small river ahead as he followed the path and it wasn’t long before they stepped out onto a cleared river bank with a small wooden jetty jutting out into the river. Atop the jetty was a wooden gazebo. Corbus led the way to the structure.

Following Corbus inside, Sam carefully put the food down on a low table within the structure and sat down on some brightly coloured floor pillows as Corbus surveyed the river before placing the flagon, plates and goblets on the table. A flick of his hands and his coronet rested beside the food. Corbus assumed a place immediately to Sam's right, and Sam’s breathing quickened a little. They were entirely alone.

“Please, eat,” said Corbus as he poured drinks for the two of them from the flagon.

Sam picked up a plate and began piling it with meat and bread. The meat smelled like pork, but a part of him suspected it was wild boar, the colour a little different and the flesh less clogged with fat. Corbus passed him a goblet and Sam smelled something he had never drunk before.

“What is this?” Sam asked as he sniffed at the goblet. The liquid inside was a deep purple and smelled both incredibly sweet and alcoholic.

“Blackberry wine,” replied Corbus as he piled his own plate with food.

 _If they wanted me dead, they would have killed me already_ , Sam thought to himself as he finally took a swig of the wine from the goblet. It was very sweet and it made a comfortable warmth spread through Sam as it travelled down his throat. Placing the wine down, Sam picked up some of the boar and tore off a chunk with his teeth. It was warm and greasy, tasting of smoke from the fire. Another mouthful of wine, and Sam relaxed back into the pillows that surrounded him.

“So, what do you know about ‘fathers and their wants’?” Sam asked Corbus, using the prince’s own words.

Corbus gave a hearty laugh before putting his goblet of wine down. “Mine, a colossal bore I must inform you, is insisting on me finally accepting Princess Aregund’s hand in marriage. That little minx, in turn, is not so much a bore as a sea of frustration and cruelty. I cannot bear the thought of spending eternity with such a creature as she.”

Without warning, Corbus leaned his head against Sam’s right shoulder and Sam almost dropped his plate of food. Putting the plate down, Sam looked at Corbus who was gazing up at him. Sam felt himself blush, as he tried desperately to think of what to say.

“Oh,” Sam finally replied, wanting to kick himself for having nothing better to offer.

“Truly, Aregund is a horrid princess. All steely eyed and unfeeling, except when she’s chopping off the heads of her enemies. Then, and only then, does she appear to show emotion. She is not who I would like beside me as queen.”

Sam stayed silent. Unsure, but a tiny bit terrified, as to where this conversation might be going as he struggled to break his eyes away from Corbus’s gaze. The intensity that burned from the prince was… catching, and Sam felt a shiver run through him as Corbus tipped his face closer to him.

Swallowing hard, Sam asked, “Um, who do you want beside you?”

“Maybe Princess Ingund or Princess Wisigard, if I must. Both kind and thoughtful. I would not fear for my own head with either of those two.” Corbus sighed and licked his lips. “But really, I do find my tastes lie... elsewhere.”

And with those words there was no mistaking the look that the fairy prince was aiming squarely at Sam. Licking his own lips, experimentally, Sam leaned his face towards Corbus, and gently pressed his lips against the prince’s. Corbus’s lips were smooth and warm, and the prince moaned a little when Sam sucked his bottom lip. The prince opened his mouth to Sam and Sam pushed his tongue into the fairy’s mouth, tasting the blackberry wine he had drunk.

A part of Sam could not quite believe what he was doing, but most of him was revelling in how good Corbus felt against him. Finally, he pulled away from the kiss and rested his head against the side of the gazebo, listening to Corbus’s hurried breaths contrasting with his own, pleased that the effect he was having on the fairy prince was equal to the effect the fae was having on him.

Remaining against Sam’s shoulder, Corbus sighed and pulled Sam’s right hand into his own. For a time, they just sat there, in silence, listening to the river and each other’s breathing.

“You have… never kissed another man before, have you, Sam?” Corbus’s voice startled Sam, causing him to jerk away from the wall of the gazebo. The fairy prince slid from Sam’s shoulder and only just put his hands out in time to stop himself from face planting the floor.

“I’m so sorry, here,” Sam said, embarrassed, holding a hand out for Corbus. The fairy prince gracefully clasped Sam’s hand and pulled himself up, resuming his position against Sam’s right shoulder.

“Have you?” Corbus wasn’t letting his question go.

Letting his eyes wander, Sam looked up at the roof, trying to collect his thoughts. He was in some fairy kingdom, with a fairy prince and had just kissed a guy for the first time, plus he didn’t know for sure if he would be getting out of there alive. Lying seemed like a pointless act at this juncture in his life.

“You are the first guy I have ever kissed,” Sam admitted, an iciness settling in his stomach as a traitorous corner of his mind considered how his father would treat such a revelation. _But he isn’t here right now_ , Sam thought to himself, _and let’s face it this is none of his damn business_.

Corbus placed himself in front of Sam as he stood, pulling Sam away from his thoughts as he blocked his view of the roof. Sam was forced to look at Corbus, and was buoyed by the smile he saw there as he stared up.

Sam clambered to his feet, but was silenced as Corbus wrapped his arms around Sam's broad shoulders and pulled his mouth down to his own. Sam closed his eyes. Now Corbus’s kiss tasted of - Sam struggled to comprehend what it was that he was feeling in that movement of lips. Corbus flowed over all his senses, awakening memories long hidden: the sun shining down on corn fields; a lake lapping against a stony shore; a sunflower opening… a length of blonde hair clasped in a tiny fist.

Sam pulled away, his breathing ragged, but a feeling of contentment, unlike any he had felt in a long time, was radiating inside of him. He wasn’t sure when he started crying, but Corbus gently caressed Sam’s left cheek, wiping away a tear.

“I apologise, Sam, sometimes I forget to hol-”

“No, no, it’s fine. Everything’s fine. More than fine. I just-”

But Sam didn’t finish his sentence as need kicked in and he pulled Corbus tightly against him, his much larger hands easily grasping the fairy prince’s slight waist, and dove his mouth over the fae’s. Sam kissed Corbus’s lips at first and then teased his mouth open, stealing his tongue inside. He drank in the prince, moaning as their tongues caressed, and Corbus's hands began to wander. They slid down Sam's chest and snaked around his hips to grab his ass.

The prince might have been all refinement and graces in front of his courtiers, but there, with Sam, the fae was a ball of want and desire. Breaking their kiss, Sam eased Corbus down to the pillows with him so that they were flush together, facing each other. Sam rested his right hand on Corbus’s left thigh, while Corbus brushed his left fingers through Sam’s short, tufty hair.

“Corbus… why... how are we-”

“Here?” Corbus’s eyes sparkled in the unending twilight and Sam struggled with the beauty of the being that had brought him here. The being that had chosen to spend, Sam realised, the most important night of the year - if you’re a fairy - in his company.

“Yes.”

The prince stole a kiss before he answered. “I felt you Sam, the moment your heart broke at your father’s words. When a tempest threatened to spill forth from you. The instant that you knew you would have to rebel so that you might claim any happiness in your life.

“The walls between our worlds are thin on midsummer’s night. Especially on one such as this when the moon rests her longest within our halls, feasting and dancing with my kin. It’s rare that she is here for all of this hallowed twilight.”

Without saying anything, Sam brought his mouth to Corbus’s again, the fae’s kind words beating away his father’s dark ones. The moment was perfect. They were perfect. The kiss was long and deep.

Though one little detail wouldn’t leave Sam, kept niggling at him, and so framed his next question as he pulled away. “How often is there a new moon on the summer solstice?”

“The next one is not for another nineteen of your years,” Corbus replied as he stroked Sam’s hair.

“So... I came here because of the new moon. If there's a full moon on the solstice, would you be able to go to my world?”

Corbus smiled at that question. “It will be another fifteen of your years before I might take my court for a time unto your world… if we decide to.” A sadness entered his voice. “Your lands are… not as fruitful and welcoming as they once were.”

Unable to stand the change in Corbus’s tone, Sam drew him back into a kiss, feeling the fae smile against his lips, before Corbus teased his mouth open and caressed Sam’s tongue with his own. Sam moaned and pulled Corbus’s hips closer to his, and was surprised and pleased to feel, through his jeans, Corbus’s hard-on against his own hardening cock. The friction was fiendishly good.

Pulling away for air, Sam’s chest heaved in time with Corbus’s, but they continued to grind against each other. They’d reached a step that Sam had once or twice imagined reaching with another man, but had never chased or attained in reality.

“What… do we do?” Sam asked, looking to Corbus for guidance.

The fae licked his own lips. Sam felt a blush form on his cheeks as Corbus’s eyes roved his body.

“Do you trust me?” Corbus asked as he brought his eyes back to Sam’s.

“No, not completely,” Sam answered honestly, speaking from his hunter’s instincts.

“Good, because I do not completely trust you. But, if you let me...” Sam’s jeans and boxers fell, as if by magic, the brush of material snagged past his erection and causing Sam’s eyes to flutter.

Corbus skillfully slipped his slender hand past Sam’s balls, bringing a finger to rest beside his hole, caused Sam to buck towards the fae. “I will worship you.”

“Yes,” Sam whimpered, “please.”

“Undress,” Corbus ordered gently, removing his hand, which elicited another whimper from Sam.

Sam stood and clumsily shed his clothes and boots, while Corbus nimbly removed his. Naked, feeling no chill in the warm, perpetual twilight, Sam allowed Corbus to approach, his eyes drifting to look at the fae’s hard cock. Corbus gently brushed his hands up and down Sam’s arms, trailed his fingers across Sam’s firm chest. Then one hand dropped to Sam’s erection, stroked it, before gripping it tight and giving it a few swift pumps. Sam’s hips moved towards Corbus, seeking more friction.

Instead of giving Sam that, Corbus ushered Sam over the floor pillows and asked him to kneel and bend over, raising his ass in the air. A slight nervousness taking over, Sam obliged. As soon as he was settled, he felt one of Corbus’s fingers teasing the outside of his hole again. The promise it held was electric and Sam let more whimpers escape. He could feel himself leaking pre-cum, and he wanted more, but he knew he couldn’t rush things.

Slowly letting himself relax under Corbus’s touch, he could feel himself loosening. Corbus took the finger away and Sam thought he heard the fae spitting before the finger returned, wetter than before, and then the finger slipped inside his tight heat. At first it stung, but quickly Sam found himself pushing towards it as Corbus rained kisses over his ass cheeks and lower back, his left free hand stroking Sam’s left thigh.

“Corbus,” Sam groaned, his voice heavy with need.

“Patience, Sam.”

Carefully, Corbus stretched Sam, working from one finger to two and then three. Sam backed onto Corbus's three fingers as they chased his prostate, desperate to feel the Fae inside him. Sam’s cock ached and he wanted to jump that final hurdle.

“Do you still want me, Sam?” Corbus asked, his voice thicker than before.

“Yes, Corbus, yes!”

The fingers were gently eased out, and Sam waited patiently. And then Corbus’s cock was teasing his hole, moistened and hard, and Sam couldn’t help bucking towards it. Corbus brought his hands down onto Sam’s hips and lined himself up while Sam shuddered with expectation. Then Corbus was gently pushing inside him, the final stretch burned a little more than Sam had been expecting, but it was nowhere near as painful as he had once feared.

Filling Sam up, Corbus waited a moment before he pulled out part of the way and then eased himself back inside. Then Corbus began to thrust faster, his cock hitting Sam’s prostate with ease. Sam felt a little light headed from how intense it all felt, the pleasure beyond anything he had experienced before and then Corbus slowed. Sam felt what he assumed was saliva suddenly dripping down to his hole. Corbus pressed himself close to Sam, reached around with his right hand and clasped Sam's cock again. He resumed thrusting in time with his pumping fist.

"Corbus," Sam groaned as he happily plummeted over the edge, melting into the fae. He came hard and plastered his stomach, Corbus's hand and the pillows beneath him

“Sam,” moaned the fairy prince as he reached his peak and spilled into Sam, finishing in short quick thrusts.

Sam held the both of them up, until Corbus regained enough of his senses and pulled out of Sam. Corbus found some cloths, and walked naked down to the river to dampen them. He returned to Sam and lovingly wiped him down before cleaning himself.

Clean and still naked, Corbus gestured to their food and wine, and Sam gladly launched upon it, his hunger back with a vengeance. They feasted until full and the wine was gone. Finally, they retrieved their clothes and dressed, but before Sam could button his shirt, Corbus seized him by the waist. He pulled Sam down nestling his mouth between the crook of Sam’s right shoulder and the right side of his neck. Corbus's lips closed around a sensitive point of Sam's skin, just under his chin and ear. The sucking on his neck was fierce and intense, and the bite came out of nowhere. It felt amazing. When Corbus pulled away, Sam put a hand to the spot, his fingers playing over the puffed flesh, but he didn’t try to cover the mark.

Dressed and satiated, Corbus seemed to pull them back through the forest and to the festivities, Sam unsure if his feet touched the ground, before moving back to the fairy circle he had emerged from. The moon was low in the sky now.

Corbus gave Sam a kiss as they stopped moving, and smiled up at him, a brightness to his violet eyes that had not been there before. Sam grinned back, half love drunk, half real drunk.

“I said you had a choice, Sam, to stay or to return,” Corbus said, his voice a little tight. “And while I want to have you here, I believe that you will be needed, back in your world.” The fae’s tone was ominous.

Sam sighed and felt a part of him pull towards the ring, another part unsure at the meaning behind Corbus’s words. But Sam had no desire to investigate them further. No desire to ruin what they had experienced.

Stealing one last kiss, Sam teased Corbus with his tongue before he stepped away. “I want to go to college,” Sam said simply.

The fairy prince smiled at Sam as he ushered him into the ring, not standing within it himself. “There is no greater pursuit than that of knowledge, Sam.”

And then Corbus was gone. Blown away as the veridian masses became scrawny pine trees once more. Sam sighed and pulled out his flashlight, retracing his steps with ease. When he finally got back to the motel, his father was asleep on the couch and snoring loudly, but his older brother Dean was awake, waiting up for him.

“Hey,” Dean whispered as Sam closed the door to their room, relief on his face. “Is that what I think it is on your ne-”

“None of your damn business,” Sam replied, as he kicked off his boots and fell on to the nearest bed.

Sam’s dreams, for what remained of that night, chased the fairy prince.

**Author's Note:**

> So, maybe you're wondering why I talked about the moon so much in this fic. Well, when I went to write it originally, it was just going to be standard fairy ring stuff, but when I went to research the phase of the moon when it was the solstice and Sam was 18, I found out that it was a new moon that solstice, which is quite rare. And so I made a bigger deal out of it.
> 
> [Find the story on Tumblr here.](http://dreamsfromthebunker.tumblr.com/post/122177399590/bring-the-moon)
> 
> Thanks to Fandomnatural regular [Zeryx](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeryx/pseuds/Zeryx) for beta reading this for me.


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